


Spin Me Around

by Meowser_Clancy



Category: Ghost Whisperer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowser_Clancy/pseuds/Meowser_Clancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starting as an extended chapter 28 from the work The Cosmic Law of French Toast (published on fanfiction.net by myself) this is now going to be a full length story.<br/>When Melinda helps a straying heiress turned pole dancer, Lena Liland's life changes all of those surrounding her...Jim, Melinda, and Rick.<br/>Melinda and Jim must work through new issues in their relationship while Rick must learn to let go of his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Extended Chapter 28 of CLoFT or Ch 1 of Spin Me Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Jim join forces to rescue Melinda from herself, with unexpected consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Three: Hot Chocolate/Hot Drinks
> 
> A/N: I'm currently listening to My Type by Saint Motel. So that should give you some clues into this chapter.

 

Jim leaned on the bar, his arm muscles bulging. The women in the room, discreetly sat in booths or lurking by the pool tables, made more mental notes as they watched him.

"Listen, pal, all I'm asking is, have you seen a short, brunette woman come in here?" He asked the bartender impatiently.

"I get a lot of short brunettes in here, you'll have to be more specific," the redheaded and freckled man replied.

"She would have asked a lot of weird questions," Jim added.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Was she stacked? And, fuck, do I mean stacked, and with an ass to boot."

Jim's jaw clenched. "That sounds like her, but I'm going to mention here that she's my wife before I have to bash your head in."

The man's eyes narrowed even more. "Go ahead and try," he said coolly.

"It's not worth it, Jim," Rick piped up and Jim jerked around, remembering only now that the professor was here with him. "I believe the question was, did you see her?"

"I did," the man grunted, looking between them. Rick was wearing very dark sunglasses (to cover up a black eye) but they succeeded only in making him look thuggish...which was actually a good thing in this situation...a very good thing.

"So where is she?" Rick demanded, placing a hand on Jim's tense forearm.

"She left," he replied. "Out that door. I suggest you follow suit."

Rick had to physically pull Jim away from the bar. "Come on, lover boy, we'll find her," he assured the man, opening the door and ushering them outside into the cold air. Their breaths showed and Jim abruptly pulled away from Rick.

Rick threw up his hands. "Whatever. That's what I get for helping."

"Are you kidding me? You're the one who sent her on this goose chase," Jim snapped.

"No, she sent herself, I just pointed her in the right direction," Rick corrected. "Why are you even worrying about it? Melinda's always come home fine before now."

Jim's eyes darkened. "Since you've known her," he said grimly.

Rick straightened. "Was there a time that she didn't come home?" He asked.

"Her car...there was an accident, she...almost didn't revive," Jim said quietly as they walked away from the bar.

"Oh, god, Jim," Rick said heavily. "I didn't know."

Jim scraped his hair off of his forehead. "Yeah, well," he sighed. "You're right. Nothing could have stopped her."

"It's snowing," Rick said morosely.

Jim sighed. "It is."

They walked down the street in silence. "Where are we even going? It's not like we can ask the ghosts where she went," Rick said, bringing them to a halt.

"Let's continue investigating bars," Jim said, shoving his gloveless hands into his pockets. "She was helping a waitress who worked at a bar, right? She just didn't know which one, so we're definitely in her footsteps right now." He frowned. "The thing is, that was the last bar in Grandview."

"No, it wasn't," Rick said.

"Yeah, it was," Jim said.

"No, there's a new one," Rick said. "A...nasty one."

Jim's eyes narrowed.

" _Wild Nights_ ," Rick said. "It opened way over on the north side of town. It's a high end place with...too many girls."

"You seem to know a lot about it," Jim commented, starting towards his pickup, which was parked in the square.

"One of my students worked there, she had a hard time getting out," Rick said, following Jim's lead as the man broke into a run. "Whoa, hold up!"

"If you can't keep up, stay behind," Jim shouted.

"What happened to no man left behind?" Rick complained, but did indeed double his pace.

Jim jumped into the driver's seat and Rick had only just scrambled into the passenger's side when Jim spun away from the curb, wheels squealing.

"It's snowing, be careful!" Rick shouted, but Jim's response was to slam his foot on the gas pedal.

"Where's this place?" Jim asked, making a left.

"You're on the right track, just keep going," Rick said.

* * *

When they walked into Wild Nights, Jim's first thought was horror.

The women were barely wearing anything. His heart went out to the women who were forced into these jobs even as his jeans became tighter. God, sometimes he hated being a man.

"What can I do for you?" The maitre'd cooed, her breasts almost falling out of her corset-like top.

"Have you—" Jim began when Rick slapped him in the chest.

"We'd like a table," Rick corrected.

"What?" Jim hissed as the woman started to a table.

"I saw Melinda," Rick said. "Stay calm."

Jim's head almost jerked off of his neck in an effort to see what Rick was talking about but the man in front of him just kept walking, even turning around to glare at Jim as if to ask what the hold up was.

And then Jim's heart stopped.

"Can I get you a drink?" Another waitress asked as they were settled at their table.

"Hot chocolate," a female voice interrupted. "I'll take care of these guys, Rory, if you could get the chocolate."

Rory walked away and then Melinda was looking down at them. "Hi."

"What the hell?" Jim hissed.

"Keep quiet, Rory's coming back with the cocoa," Melinda said, sitting down.

Neither man could take their eyes off of her. She was wearing little more than lingerie, pitifully covered by an open...robe...thing.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked.

"I'm helping someone," Melinda hissed as Rory placed three hot chocolates on the table.

Rick couldn't help but take a sip and he choked on the first mouthful. "What the hell is in this?"

"A mixture of whiskey and bourbon," Melinda said. "Sorry, I should have warned you."

"No, it's good," Rick said, his voice sounding strained.

Jim noticed that the man's eyes were literally _glued_ to the expanse of breast exposed on Melinda and he elbowed him rather harshly just as Rick took another drink, so he choked on his second one too.

"See on the stage?" Melinda asked, raising an arm to point.

Jim felt faint at seeing what the motion did to her decolletage.

Rick choked for a third time on his cocoa.

"That's Lena," Melinda said. "My ghost, Penny, is her sister. She can't cross over because her sister is still working here, because she's trying to pay back one of Penny's debts. It makes sense, right?"

"I wouldn't leave behind my sister here," Rick agreed.

"Exactly," Melinda said. "But I had to blend in a bit. I got a waitress to go home sick and I'm the replacement she sent in. I just need to get close to Lena. Then I'm leaving forever, with Lena."

"I don't like this," Jim said, rubbing his forehead.

"I gotta go," Melinda said, standing up.

Jim reached out to stop her, trying to grab her hand but he wasn't quick enough.

"Hands to yourself," a man growled behind him. "You have to pay extra to touch."

Jim felt something like road rage rise up in him, almost completely clouding his vision. He only came out of it because of Rick's steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Stay calm," Rick counselled. "Melinda's already talking to Lena. We'll be out of here any second."

"I can't stay calm," Jim said and buried his face in his hands, feeling like the bar crowd was burning him.

"We'll be out of here in plenty of time," Rick assured him. "And then you can take your wife home with you."

Jim wasn't imagining the hint of bitterness in Rick's voice. "Well, maybe you can take Lena home," he shot back.

"Very funny," Rick said. "No, I think I'll have to stick around here if I want to get any satisfaction tonight."

Jim lifted his own cup of cocoa to his lips and promptly burned the top of his throat when he saw Melinda walk onto the stage. "This isn't happening," he whispered.

Rick, next to him, was even tenser than he was.

The whole crowd seemed to have fallen silent as Melinda approached the pole.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Jim said and stood up. He felt Rick's arms and hands desperately try to hold him back but he could see nothing but his wife's body, undulating on stage before fifty or so randy men.

Her hips were moving in ways that he wasn't sure _he'd_ known they could. He could feel Rick holding him back and it was the only reason he hadn't put put the eyes of every man in the room from their witnessing it.

He had no idea what Melinda's plan was but it was going to drive him to an early grave.

And then suddenly it was over. Melinda was scrambling off of the stage and talking to Lena. Jim was gratified to see that the beefy guard was again standing guard over Melinda and keeping the drooling men feet away.

Finally, Melinda led Lena over to their table. "Jim, Rick, this is Lena."

She saw the scene; Rick was still holding Jim's shoulder in a white knuckled grip.

"Jim is my husband,, Rick is my friend," Melinda explained.

Lena was a doe eyed _young_ woman with long, coltish legs and an innocence still somehow clinging to her that would have made Jim's heart ache if other parts of his anatomy weren't in such pain right now from staring at his wife.

"Hello," Lena said softly. "Um."

"We're going to leave now," Melinda said.

She led the way. Jim threw a bill on the table and heard a mild curse fall from Rick's lips as they hurried to follow Melinda... The sway of her hips led them forward like they were on a string.

The guard approached. "Where are you going? Your shifts aren't over."

"We quit," Melinda stated. "Lena and I."

"Not going to happen," the guard stated, placing a beefy hand tight around Melinda's upper arm.

Jim stepped forward. "You'll be paying with a lot if you touch my wife like that again."

"Wife?" The guard sneered. "This whore?"

This time Rick didn't hold him back. He might even have pushed Jim forward.

Jim's fist collided with the guard's jaw with a loud crack.

Rick, in a rare moment of athletic coordination took out the next guard who was approaching them from behind.

In the next moment, as all hell broke loose, Melinda seemed to say something and then the lights went out. He felt Melinda's hand grip his hand. "Get Rick," she hissed. "Penny is leading us out safely."

Jim wildly fumbled behind him and grabbed Rick by the cuff as Melinda walked confidently forward, leaving them to follow through the pitch black darkness.

* * *

They were finally outside, running to Jim's pickup.

"We can come back later for my car," Melinda shouted.

They jumped into the pickup, forgetting that it didn't have a back seat. Jim found that Lena was almost in his lap and he didn't even want to know what Melinda's situation was with Rick as he drove from the parking lot with squealing tires.

Looking at his companions' state of undress, Jim turned the heat way up...though at this point he felt like he could heat the truck himself.

It was a long moment before Melinda spoke. "I'm sorry?" She offered. "And thank you so much for following. I don't know what would have happened if you two weren't there."

"We can finish this conversation later," Jim said, wanting to look at her but when he turned his head he only got an eyeful of Lena's cleavage so he turned quickly back to face the road.

"I'd like to know something," Rick said. "Where's Lena staying?"

"Are you offering?" Melinda snapped.

"I'm right here, you know," Lena said. "And I didn't ask to be rescued."

"I thought you believed me when I told you that Penny sent me," Melinda said.

"I do. But you didn't have to bust me out of there like that," Lena said. "Not that I'm not grateful."

"You don't sound grateful," Rick said.

"Penny told me that you needed money, to pay one of her debts she left when she died," Melinda said. "I can lend you the amount, Lena. I don't want you going back there. And neither does Penny. That was why we left like that."

"I know," Lena said. "But there's something that I don't think Penny would have told you."

"And what would that be?" Melinda asked.

"We're trust fund kids, our parents are the Lilands," Lena said.

There was dead silence.

"Like the millionaires? In NYC?" Jim asked.

Lena nodded miserably. "Penny didn't want our parents to find out. Dad would have...I know that she wouldn't want him to have those kind of memories of her. She already felt so guilty."

"Was it a drug habit?" Melinda asked.

"No, not at all," Lena corrected. "She did something stupid one summer."

"Ah, it was a guy," Rick said. "A secret baby."

"It was a girl, another rich girl who's now married. Penny was being blackmailed," Lena said flatly.

More silence. "This is complicated," Melinda said.

"Yeah," Lena said.

"You can stay with us tonight," Melinda finally said. "We can figure out what to do in the morning."

Jim heard Melinda's words and he almost groaned.

* * *

When they dropped off Rick, Jim wasn't sure what to say to the man who'd probably saved his neck this evening... And seen his wife nearly naked pole dancing.

He rolled open his window as Rick walked past. "Thank you," he settled on but the rawness in his voice clued Rick in and the man waved goodbye.

* * *

"Well, I got Lena situated in the guestroom," Melinda said, hesitating in the doorway to the bedroom.

Jim was sitting on the bed.

She could see his erection from here. "Oh, god, Jim. I'm sorry." She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

"Do you have any idea how painful that was for me?" Jim asked, voice low. "Watching you... Doing things... Like that..." He shook his head and stood up, walking over to her.

"I'll change out of this uniform,' Melinda said. "I had to put it on." Her hands went to her top and Jim reached out to stop her.

"No," Jim said. "I'll take it off.'

His hand gripped the fabric of her top, twisting it to expose her breasts even more.

"Jim-" Melinda began.

"No, you don't get to say that," Jim said fiercely, and pulled the fabric so hard that the flimsy clips in the back finally snapped and the top came off on his hand, leaving Melinda topless.

She shivered under his gaze.

"Is this what you wanted to happen?" Jim asked, voice raw. "For some random guy to get to look at you like this?"

She hadn't wanted that. "No," she said.

Jim dropped the flimsy bra on the floor.

"Touch me," she said. "Please."

"Not yet," he said.

She looked at him, not sure she'd ever seen him like this. He paced around her, reminiscent of a caged predatory animal.

She felt his burning gaze on every part of her. He pulled the robe off of her arms and it pooled on the floor at her feet.

"Why did you dance?"

"It was part of Deeanne's job, the one who went home faking illness, it was part of the deal."

"I didn't like it," Jim said. "Where did you even learn to dance like that?"

His legs suddenly pressed into hers from behind. She shivered, nipples pebbling. She felt Jim's gaze there and fought to answer his question.

"I...Penny was coaching me, and I was watching the other girls, and instinct, I guess," Melinda said and gasped when Jim's mouth landed on her neck, sucking.

"Those men watching you...what do you think they thought of it?" Jim demanded, sucking harder.

"I'm going to have a mark there is you..."

"That's the point," Jim said, and she even thought she felt teeth.

Oh god. She'd never known Jim to act like this...but it was damn gratifying to see him get jealous. It had been a long time. She couldn't help arching into his mouth and he pulled back.

She moaned at the loss of his heat; of the throbbing pressure against her back. Her thighs were getting tingly, wet, aching.

"Jim," she began.

"Not yet," he said ruthlessly.

She couldn't help it: her breasts felt heavy and tender and he was purposely not touching them. She raised her hand to cover her right breast, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

Jim was about to pull it away, thinking she was covering herself but then realized what she was truly doing.

"Now you know how I felt," he groaned. "Good God, Melinda." 

His predator likeness fell away. It was just Jim. He was worshipping her body with his eyes, drinking her in. "You terrified me tonight." His hands and eyes started to roam over her body, his hand replaced hers on her breasts. "I love you. I love you. I was so scared." He kissed her neck again, pressing his lips to the soft skin there.

"Thank you," Melinda gasped,  twisting in his arms.

He saw that she was still wearing the panties. "Take them off," he said, reverting, just for a second, to be terrifying.

She immediately slid them down her hips, feeling the heat of his eyes on every exposed inch.

"Will you forgive me?" She asked as Jim threw them into the trashcan.

"There's nothing to forgive," he finally said after leaving her hanging for another painfully long moment. "You were just being the empathetic, beautiful, caring woman who'd do anything to help people that I originally fell in love with and married."

His pants slid down his hips, taking his boxer briefs with them.

He stood behind her and places his hands over her breasts, covering them. "These are _mine_ to see," he said. "And hold and touch and taste."

She moaned as he leaned far down over her shoulder to capture her nipple with his mouth... Finally.

The ache both relented and intensified. He released her nipples and simply cupped her breasts for a moment, weighing them in his hands.

She felt something start to build in her and was too startled to say anything. He picked her up ayt the waist and settled her onto the bed, spreading her thighs and moving between them. But then his mouth descended on her breasts again, hot and wet.

She moved restlessly against him, wanting pressure down there too, but was distracted when he sucked ever harder on her nipple. His hair was tickling her, heightening the nerve endings on her breasts. He was pulling and tugging and she could barely breathe.

And then she exploded in a crown of stars, making primal cries and loud moans. She felt something wet against her thighs and realized she'd taken Jim with her in her climax.

"I didn't know you could orgasm just from having your breasts touched," Jim panted a moment later.

"Neither did I," Melinda gasped, still holding onto his hair, as if to keep her anchored. "Neither did I."

They were quiet for a moment. "I just remembered that we have a guest," Melinda said. "How loud was I?"

For a moment, Jim wasn't sure what to say. He collapsed on her chest, breathing heavily. "Not as loud as you're going to be," he vowed.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment reassuring me that I didn't completely mess up the last scene!  
> Oh, I don't know if this is common knowledge or what but some women can climax just from having their breasts touched.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

Melinda, dressed in a turtleneck, gently knocked on the door to the guestroom.

"Come in," Lena called and Melinda twisted the knob.

"Good morning, Lena," she said happily. "How did you sleep?"

Lena squinted at her from the bed. "Not that I'm not grateful, but you're kidding me, right? How do you think I slept?" Her voice was amused, not annoyed. "I guess I don't blame your husband. He looked downright in pain."

Melinda chuckled. "Sorry about that," she apologized.

"You know, don't be," Lena returned. "It's nice to hear such a healthy marriage."

"Hear being the operative word," Melinda sighed.

"Seriously, if I'd ever heard my parents going at it like that, I wouldn't be so worried for their marriage," Lena said, sitting up in bed and stretching. "And, Melinda, I was at Wild Night's for kind of a while. I overheard a lot of rendezvouses. I've got major respect for your husband now, even more than last night...I think you climaxed even twice as much as he did."

Melinda felt her cheeks burn but couldn't mask the grin on her face. "Jim's a special man," she agreed. "But lest you get the wrong idea, it usually is more even between us. He was in a rare mood last night."

"I'll bet," Lena said, stretching again.

Melinda's flannel pajamas on her slim frame just made her look younger than ever. Melinda remembered the clothes over her arm and forced herself back on track.

"Anyway, I brought towels and some clothes," Melinda said. "The bathroom is to your left, but the only functioning shower is in the master bedroom." She giggled. "I thought I'd give you safe passage there."

"Ah," Lena agreed. "Got it."

"Then I was going to invite Rick over for breakfast, so we can figure this out."

Lena swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood up. "Why do you need Rick?" She questioned. "Isn't he Jim's friend?"

"Believe it or not, I knew him first, and last night was the first time they've gotten along so well. Rick is a professor at Rockland U, and I often go to him when I have questions I think are unanswerable and he answers them with a terrifying ease."

"So why do we need Rick now?" Lena said rather stubbornly.

Melinda paused. "Well, if you don't want him here-"

Lena flushed, the look enhancing her heart shaped face. "Invite him," she said. "It's just that he couldn't keep his eyes off-"

"Rick's always like that, he doesn't mean to be disrespectful, and I think most of its an act," Melinda hurried to defend.

"You," Lena finished. "He couldn't keep his eyes off of you. I'm not a vain woman but I hadn't worked at Wild Nights so long as I'd dislike the attention... It felt weird to be wearing so little clothes and both men were still looking at you. It bruised my ego."

She stepped over and took the armful of clothes. "Underwear?" She asked, sifting through it.

"Yeah, it's a set that I only got a few days ago, I haven't worn it yet," Melinda said a bit self consciously. "The fit should be about the same."

"Well, at least someone was looking at my ass last night," Lena cracked. "Lead the way to the shower. I've got some cleaning to do."

Melinda nodded and led the way in silence. Jim was still in bed, out cold, and Lena shook her head in amusement when she saw him.

Melinda blushed again but Lena headed into the bathroom without a word.

Melinda sat on the edge of the bed, near Jim, wanting him to be up before Lena was done.

"Babe?" She asked, placing a hand on his back and shaking a little. "Are you awake?"

"I don't want to be," Jim replied.

"Lena's in the shower, but you can put a robe on at least while you wait," she said. "I'm going to invite Rick over for breakfast."

"Idnwna," Jim said, voice muffled.

"What?" Melinda asked, leaning over him.

In seconds, Jim had captured her, flipping her underneath him and pinning her down. She realized she'd been tricked and tried to mind.

He didn't look sleepy in the least, his eyes were bright and alert. "Why are you wearing so many clothes?" He complained, brushing her hair aside so he could press his lips to her neck.

"No," Melinda said, wiggling away. "It took me forever to find a shirt that covered all of the hickeys I already have, I'm not going to let you give me one that this shirt won't cover up."

"I know, I saw you dressing," he whispered, stubbornly returning his mouth to the same spot on her neck. "I would have joined you in the shower but the view was enough for me."

"Oh, get up," Melinda ordered, shoving him off of her. "The bedding needs to be washed desperately after last night."

She started to strip the bed, shoving Jim all the way off. "Babe, please, please put something on before Lena is done showering."

"Why not just repay her in kind for the eyeful I got last night?" Jim asked, but obediently pulled on pajama bottoms.

Melinda tucked the bedding up into a ball, holding it tight in her arms. "You, shower. I'm taking these down stairs and starting a load. Do not hassle Lena."

"I think Lena could handle me," Jim said, and followed his wife down the hall and stairs.

"If you're coming downstairs with me, your mind better be on making a hot breakfast," Melinda warned.

"It really isn't," Jim said, his eyes stuck on her hips.

"I'm inviting Rick over, remember?" Melinda warned.

Her words finally correctly processed in Jim's brain and he sighed. "Fine. How about apple cinnamon pancakes?"

"Sounds good, and throw some bacon in the skillet too," Melinda said and headed for the laundry room.

Lena came downstairs as Jim put the bacon in the skillet. "Hey, Lena. Sleep well?"

"I've already had this conversation with your wife," Lena commented. "Maybe you guys should change your default morning greeting to good morning."

He did a double take.

"Yes, these clothes came from your wife's closet, she lent me them," Lena said.

"I know, but you just look different with your clothes on," he said.

"Most people do," she said, looking rather pointedly at his bare chest. "Go take a shower, Jim. I won't burn the bacon."

Jim looked at her and nodded. "Okay. Good morning, Lena."

She grinned up at him. "Thank you for having me in your home, and for last night. It meant a lot, Jim."

"Yeah, no problem," he said, awkwardly clapping her on the shoulder before heading up to take a quick shower.

* * *

Lena had just turned the bacon over, one last time, when Jim returned and took over the skillet, dressed in a blue sweater and jeans.

"It looks crispy," he said admiringly.

"You had your recipe out for the pancakes, I went ahead and grated the apples," Lena said. "I didn't want to do more in case I messed it up, but there you go."

"That was enough," Jim said gratefully. "I hate grating apples."

"It was my first time," Lena said, and hid her hand behind her back.

The paramedic in him took over and he grabbed it. "You scraped the skin off your knuckles," he exclaimed. "Did you wash your hand?"

"Yeah, a bit," she said.

"Let me go get disinfectant," Jim said.

Melinda came into the kitchen as Jim left. "What's that about?"

"I scraped the skin of my knuckle," Lena said, looking after Jim. "Is he a doctor?"

"Paramedic, though medical school is a hope," Melinda answered and got out a carton of eggs. "How do you take your eggs, Lena?"

"I might be vegan right now," Lena said. "I'm trying it out. Someone said it was good for your skin. I'll stick with the pancakes, if you aren't insulted."

"Not at all," Melinda said casually. "I had a vegetarian period in college."

"Why did you stop?" Lena asked, leaning on the counter.

"It was too hard for me to get enough protein," Melinda answered, cracking six eggs into a bowl. She grabbed a whisk and began to beat furiously. "I know some people manage, but it wasn't for me. I always felt hungry and faint, and it wasn't a good thing for me to do."

"Here," Jim said, returning with a swab. Before Lena could even fully react, he had her finger disinfected and bandaged. She looked down with a quizzical look on her face.

"Well, thanks," she said.

Jim took over the pancakes and Lena watched for a moment, at how in sync Melinda and Jim's movements in the kitchen were. If Melinda were going one way, Jim would duck out of her path and go another. They never bumped into each other and they had a perfect rhythm. When Melinda was about to ask for the salt, Jim was already handing it to her.

Lena sighed and settled onto the tall stool by the counter, picking at her long skirt. She guessed why Melinda had given her a skirt instead of pants, since Melinda's hips were wider and her legs shorter. There was no way they could have worn the same size.

The shirt was also a bit loose in the bust area. Lena had always thought of herself as well endowed, but, seeing how both Jim and Rick reacted to Melinda, she wondered if she really did have it.

There had been a reason she took the job at Wild Nights, even beyond paying back her sister's debt discreetly. She wanted the validation from the male customers; she wanted to see the look in their eyes. She also couldn't help liking having her ass grabbed even though she knew that, as a feminist, that was just _wrong_.

But it was true.

And she wanted the freedom. After years of being coddled by her parents (as only rich parents can) but never actually having a relationship with either of them, she wanted something of her own. Four years ago she'd dropped out of college at the end of her senior year. Since then she'd worked at odd jobs here and there, just relieved to have her own life.

Her parents had only just not disowned her.

And she knew that they would disown Penny if they found out about her affair of the heart, and she knew that that would just kill Penny...even though she was already dead.

So she worked. The book shop she was working in didn't pay her enough so she'd asked around and found out the one way to make money quick in New York, if you were smart enough to play it right and hide your tips.

She'd taken the risk.

Wild Nights had a 'grace period' or maybe it was better described as a period for the regulars to decide if they _wanted_ to fuck her or not. Lena had been planning to leave before the grace period ended and made her a server who could be paid to spend an evening with the patrons in a private room...

Lena hadn't wanted that.

So she was grateful for Melinda to rescuing her.

The doorbell rang.

"Can you get that?" Melinda asked distractedly, pouring eggs into a skillet as Jim made neat pancakes on the griddle.

"Sure," Lena said and walked to the door, swinging it open to reveal Rick Payne.

"So that was why you were wearing sunglasses last night!" She exclaimed.

He sported a brilliant black eye, tinged with yellow and green.

"Don't talk so loudly, it makes my head hurt," he said, rubbing his forehead.

She felt his eyes go over her body, doing more than just idly checking her out.

"You look different with Melinda's clothes on," he commented.

Lena was about to let herself be complimented but when she heard the second half of the sentence she almost slammed the door in his face.

"Thank you," she said dryly. "You look better when you aren't being punched in the face."

"You never saw me be punched in the face," Rick corrected. "Can I come inside or did Melinda invite me over so I could freeze on her doorstep?"

Lena begrudgingly stepped aside, but purposefully not enough. Rick's body brushed hers and he came inside and the infuriating man seemed to not even notice.

He took off his coat and scarf, knowing exactly where to go to hang them up. Lena wondered how long, exactly, he'd know Melinda and Jim to be so familiar with their house. Yet he was Melinda's friend. What on earth did it mean?

* * *

"What's for breakfast?" Rick asked Melinda, coming into the kitchen to see her wearing a loose gray turtleneck.

Damn it. Damn it to hell. He could see it on her, in her motions and in what she was wearing. Of course. Of course Jim had had her last night, all to himself. Leaving Rick alone. Without Melinda.

Lena appeared in the doorway behind him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"We're having apple cinnamon pancakes," Melinda said. "Jim's specialty. Lena fried the bacon and I scrambled some eggs."

"It sounds excellent," Rick said. "May I pour the orange juice?"

"Of course," Melinda said. "You know where the glasses are."

"I do indeed," Rick said, stepping forward and opening the one holding glasses. He could sense Melinda moving behind him and could momentarily lose himself in a vision, a daydream that he and Melinda were alone.

He turned and collided with a soft female body.

It wasn't Melinda. It was Lena.

"I can get a few glasses too," Lena offered, staring up at him with what seemed to be a challenge in his eyes.

"Yeah, sure," he said, and let her take the four glasses, turning instead to get the juice from the refrigerator. He poured it into the glasses unseeing, watching Melinda and the sway of her movements; remembering last night and her turn on the pole.

Which was a bad idea.

He quickly sat down, feeling that he hadn't sat quickly enough to hide his predicament from Lena, who seemed to make a show of sitting down right next to him.

Melinda came over to the table with a bowl of scrambled eggs. "Help yourself," she said, seeming to smile especially at Rick.

"And here are the pancakes," Jim announced, pulling a hot platter from the oven and placing the last few from the griddle on top. "You can sit down, Mel. I've got this."

Even while holding the platter, he managed to curl his hand around his wife's waist in a momentary gesture.

Rick felt his throat burn and he quickly took a sip of orange juice.

"The syrup is here, and the butter is here," Melinda said. "Let me know if you usually use other toppings on your pancakes. Crap, Lena. Butter isn't vegan."

"I'm fine, I'll stick with the syrup," Lena said hurriedly.

"We do have an oil spread," Melinda said, still starting to get up.

"Those are gross, I'll stick with the syrup but thank you," Lena said.

Rick wondered what that was about, turning to look at her. "You don't look like the type of girl who's usually a vegan."

"What type of girl is that?" She asked, noting that Melinda didn't take any eggs either, and upon smelling the bacon looked a bit repulsed. Hmm.

"The one who wears clothes made of hemp, not leather," Rick said dryly.

* * *

Against her better judgment, despite the fact that she knew better, her face burned at the reminded of how he'd seen her last night. Even though she didn't care that Jim or Melinda had.

She refused to think about what it might mean as she started in on another pancake.

"So why am I here?" Rick asked, midway through the meal.

"Finally, the question we've all been asking," Lena said.

Rick paused, his fork midway to his mouth. She was horrified to see real hurt momentarily flash in his eyes.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"I invited you because you were such good help last night," Melinda said, smiling at him. "Because you deserved a thank you."

"Maybe next time it can be later in the day," Rick said, not smiling in return.

She laughed. "Also because Penny told me a few troubling things. I'd like your help interpreting them. She told me that Lena probably wouldn't understand."

Lena felt something stop within her at the thought that this professor could tell her something about her beloved sister. "What does that mean?" She asked.

"It's just what Penny said," Melinda told her. "I'm sorry if it hurts, Lena."

She just shook her head, smelled the bacon and felt it calling to her.

"She said that the night was darker for the man who had a wicked heart," Melinda said. "Does that mean something to you, Lena?"

"No," Lena admitted, stealing a glance at Rick.

"I do," Rick said. "It's a quote by an obscure biblical scholar, said concerning the charming verses telling women not to sleep with other women as they would with men."

Melinda frowned. "That can't be all there is to it," she said.

"Is Penny here?" Lena asked, her voice a bit too needy for her own tastes.

"Sorry, she isn't, I don't know where she is," Melinda said, a bit dismissively. "Rick, what other meanings can it have?"

"There's a corresponding quote from him," Rick said and seemed to steal a glance at Lena. "That the day is ever brighter for the man who is at peace with himself. Or woman, it doesn't matter."

Lena's heart stopped. "I know what she was talking about," she whispered. Tears came to her eyes and she pressed a hand to her mouth. "I know exactly what she was talking about."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Rick's age is always something I've found hard to quantify. Jay Mohr is nine years older than Jennifer Love Hewitt, and three years younger than David Conrad.
> 
> For this fic, I'm putting his age at 36, and I just can't figure out ages for Jimel. It's too hard, LOL.

Lena felt every eye in the room on her, but she felt frozen, in pain for what her sister must have been feeling.

"When Penny...came out to me, she took me to this studio apartment her...girlfriend had," Lena said, the words slow and hard to get out. "It was really cold out and the heat wasn't on. But she was so happy, so relieved to finally have it off of her chest, and I was so overjoyed to see this weight lift off of her, this burden she'd been carrying for so long, that we stayed there for hours, just talking and almost freezing to death." She felt a smile come, along with tears. "She always said that it was her favorite place on earth."

"So what does it mean for you?" Melinda said softly. "Should we go there? Do you think her girlfriend still lives there?"

"I think she wants me to talk to Stephanie," Lena said. "They'd fought. She broke up with Steph because dad was getting on her case and she was going to force herself to be straight, since he's had health troubles and she just didn't want him to lose it because she did something stupid. But she never...never stopped loving Steph. She'd call me, every night almost, and she'd pretend it was about other things but it was really to ask about Steph. She was, uh, an aide when I was a student at Harvard."

"You went to Harvard?" Rick exclaimed. "You are not...what I'd picture."

"Of course she went to Harvard, she's a Lyland," Jim dismissed, standing up.

Both statements, so simple and unintended, pierced Lena's heart, made her want to cry. Rick's because of the blatant sexism and Jim's because of the implication that grades didn't matter. That she hadn't tried. That she'd only gotten in because of her daddy's checkbook.

Did they think that these weren't matters Lena suspected too? Did they think that she hadn't spent whole nights awake, trying to convince herself that she was at Harvard on her own merit, after a day of classes that she could barely comprehend and students and professors who were way beyond her.

She'd graduated, though, putting in very long nights of study, foregoing any attempts at a social life. She'd been rushed by sororities and after one semester as a Delta Gamma she'd just dropped out, not needing the stress.

She didn't want a boyfriend. She wanted to prove herself. She wanted some proof, for her parents, and herself, that she was _worth_ it. That she was more than her father's money. That she was more than a pretty face.

She bit into another pancake, trying to concentrate on it.

"Where is Stephanie living now?" Melinda asked. "Do you know? Do you think she heard about Penny's death?"

"I'm not sure," Lena said slowly. "To both questions. She went abroad, I'm not sure where, but she might have missed the news of Penny's death. It was all over the place here but I doubt it was much broadcast outside of the US."

Jim placed another platter of pancakes on the table. "Eat up," he urged. "There's plenty. And before I forget, we can thank Lena for grating the apples for us."

Rick looked at Lena, and she felt his gaze drop to her bandaged hand. "Figures," he said, before turning back to Melinda. "So now what?"

Melinda frowned. "Do you have keys to the apartment?"

"It's not...I don't think it's in Penny's name anymore," Lena said. "Can't you...couldn't you ask her?"

She looked at Melinda hopefully, wishing to hear the words she was desperate for.

_She's here._

"She's not here right now, but of course I'll ask her when she comes back," Melinda said, biting her lip.

Lena shoved her disappointment back down. "Let me think. Um, she sent me a box of her stuff, right before she died. She was moving and she needed a place to put it temporarily."

"Okay," Rick said, standing up. "Then I guess we know what your next step is."

He was preparing to leave, taking his dishes to the sink. "Glad I could help, of course," he said. "You were excellent hosts but I've got classes to teach."

"It's Saturday, Rick, and you aren't fooling anyone," Jim said dryly.

Rick paused. "I have a Saturday class."

"You didn't last week," Melinda said innocently, staring up at him. "You know, I actually do have business elsewhere. Delia can't be at the shop and I don't want to lose any Thanksgiving shoppers."

"Yeah, maybe you should go with Lena to figure out the contents of Penny's box," Jim suggested.

Lena listened to them, partly horrified and partly unbelievably excited...and completely horrified that she was excited.

"She needs the help," Melinda said. "Figuring things out. You always have an answer, Rick."

Rick was just standing there, eyeing them. "I don't have time for this," he said.

Lena stood up, ready to ask him herself.

"I need your help on this," Melinda said softly.

He froze a little, and then smiled, a little bitterly. "Okay, Lena, let's go. My car is outside."

He waved behind him, not looking at the happy couple seated at the kitchen table.

Lena scrambled after Rick. "I don't have shoes," she called.

* * *

 

"We need to pick up your car, don't we?" Jim asked after they'd managed to find an old pair of Delia's shoes that she'd left at their house; there was no way that one of Melinda's would have fit Lena.

"We should," Melinda said. "I don't think Wild Nights could have us towed but just in case we should go down there early." She cleared her throat. "Before they open, too."

"Another good point," Jim said, stacking the plates and carrying them to the sink. "I can take care of these while you go get ready."

"No, we'd have to leave now," Melinda said distractedly, looking for a coat. "Before I have to go in to the shop."

"Yet another good point," Jim said, following her to the hall closet to pull on a coat. His was black; hers was brown.

He pulled her ponytail out of her collar, leaning to press a quick kiss to her neck. "Jim, don't," she said, leaning into the touch anyway. "We have business to do."

"Yeah," he said, bracing one hand on the wall and meeting her lips with his own.

She pulled away slowly, reluctantly. "Stop sidetracking me," she told him, ducking beneath his outstretched arm.

"This is going to be a long drive," Jim said, racing after her and grabbing her around the waist, pulling her to him. "We might as well take out our frustrations beforehand."

"What frustrations?" Melinda giggled.

"These ones," he whispered and kissed her again, hands tight on her waist, lips hot and needy.

She pulled away, eyes dark and breathing quickened. "Have to pick up my car," she repeated and tugged him out the door.

* * *

Rick drove, hands tight on the wheel, ignoring the girl sitting beside him. He didn't have time for this. He could be home...reading...things.

Instead he was stuck in a car with a girl who had to be…he frowned, adding it up from what she'd said. She'd graduated from Harvard, but that had to have been a few years ago.

"What year did you graduate?" He asked, breaking the silence in the car.

"Three years ago," she said brightly.

Twelve years his junior.

Not as much as he'd been expecting. She looked, and acted, younger than twenty-four.

He cleared his throat, turning the radio on. Classical music flooded the car and he let an interlude of Bach calm him, before the station was suddenly, abruptly changed.

"Excuse me," he said, as she fiddled with the dial, not even having a clear destination in mind. "Just because you think classical music is boring doesn't mean you can change the station in my car!"

"Bach leaves a bad taste in my mouth," she said. "His Air concerto especially."

"It's beautiful, how can you say that?" Rick asked, turning the dial back.

"Memories associated with playing it," she said, looking down at her hands.

"Let me guess, the piano?" He asked.

"The violin," she said, not looking at him.

"Typical," Rick said. "What'd you get a degree in at Harvard if you played the violin?"

"Business," Lena scoffed. "Obviously. The violin was just...a hobby. One that my parents chose, no less."

She turned to look at him for a moment before looking out the window again. "Turn right up ahead," she said quietly. "My apartment is up here."

"Hey, you didn't leave any of your things at Wild Nights, did you?" Rick asked, that he remembered to ask the question surprising him.

"No, I never brought my ID or money because I didn't want someone discovering who I was," Lena said. "And I took the bus and walked from the stop. There's a change of clothes there; winter boots, but whatever. I can buy new ones and it's not enough to go back. Um, this is my driveway."

He turned into it, feeling how much quieter she'd gotten in the car, how with Melinda and Jim she'd been so talkative and now she was silent, afraid.

He followed her up to the house, reluctantly admiring the sway of her hips and her very long legs. She wasn't that much taller than Melinda, but the way they were built made all the difference.

She reached up on her tiptoes, feeling above the doorway. "I leave my key up there," she said, straining a little to get it, fingers fumbling. "God, I can't get it."

She fell away, looking around her for a box to stand on, but Rick stepped forward, hoping that his 5'9" height would be tall enough.

He found the key and handed it to her, their gloved hands barely touching.

Lena inserted it into the lock and let them in, going straight to the answering machine.

There were five messages, Rick noticed, and she deleted them all without listening to them.

He raised an eyebrow and then she looked over her shoulder at him. "This way," she said. "It's in my closet."

He followed her into the bedroom, and she opened her closet door. He was surprised by the sparseness of the room but didn't comment.

She pulled a box out, and he could see sudden tears in her eyes.

"Hey, do you want me to do this?" He asked. "You could go make tea or something."

"I just...never expected I'd have to, that's all," Lena whispered. "She's been gone two months. Two whole months and it hasn't gotten any easier. I was going to...I wasn't going to open this box. I couldn't."

She sniffed a little, breathing in, and tore the flap open, clapping a hand to her mouth when she saw what was on top.

"Lena, I can do this," Rick said, his voice tenderer than he'd ever intended. He took the box from her and started to sort through it.

There were notebooks, all filled to the brim with written words. He wasn't sure he'd actually ever seen a full notebook, even one of his own. There was a sketchpad in a similar state, fat with used pages. He flipped through it a little, saw sketches of a woman; blonde, he assumed since she didn't shade the hair, with a strong face and a...a very nice body. He closed the sketchpad, feeling like her nude drawings of her girlfriend weren't meant to be seen.

There was a tiny box at the bottom; like a ring box to propose with.

"She proposed," Lena said. "But Steph...she didn't give the ring back when Penny broke it off." Her voice was clogged with tears but none ran down her face.

She reached for the box, but her hands were shaking too much. "Could you open it?" She whispered.

He did, and smiled at Penny's foresight. There was a key inside it.

And he'd bet a lot right now as to what it unlocked.

"She was moving, right?" He asked.

"Yeah, her lease was up," Lena said, staring at the key. "But she hadn't found a new place. She was staying with friends."

"You sure about that?" Rick said, lifting the key up and placing it on her hand.


	4. Chapter 4

The highway sped by; Jim drove his truck in silence, comfortable, while his wife beside him checked messages on her phone.

"Do you want to talk about this a bit more?" He asked when she put it away.

"About what?" Melinda wondered, turning to face him.

"How you got into this whole mess," he said, choosing his words carefully.

Melinda sighed. "It was honestly just the usual," she said. "Penny was appearing to me, I was getting visions...you know that. I told you all about it."

"But when you met Lena…" Jim shook his head. "I don't remember hearing about anything after that."

"Because I only went to see Lena yesterday," Melinda said. "It took me so long to find her. I went to Wild Nights; there was an opening." She licked her lips. "I took it. I'm sorry, Jim, but I had to."

"I know," Jim sighed. "And your huge heart will forever amaze me. I just don't like to think of you doing that for...however long you did it yesterday."

"It wasn't fun," Melinda said softly. "I didn't like to do it, and it's a memory I'll gladly leave behind. Just as soon as we get my car."

He reached over and took her hand in his, squeezing a bit.

"Both hands on the steering wheel," she said softly, pulling away.

He did as she asked, but the rest of the drive only wanted her touch again and didn't know how to ask for it.

* * *

"You think it's her apartment?" Lena said excitedly, following Rick out the door; he was walking so damn fast, going straight to his car.

"Yes," he said. "Hurry and lock up, we're going straight there. Do you know how to get there?"

"Yeah, I think so," Lena said, scrambling into the seat beside him, shivering a little in the cold air before he turned the heat on.

Rick peeled out of the driveway, and Lena clutched at her door handle, holding on tight. "Why the hurry?"

"It's finally getting interesting," Rick said. "Come on, direct me, you're the one who knows."

"Yeah," she said, feeling a reluctant smile on her face from how hyped he was; how uncynical. "Um, same road, up this way."

* * *

Melinda hopped from the car, keys in her hand, Jim getting out beside her from the truck.

"I guess we're parting ways here," she said, relieved to see her car just where she'd left it, a few blocks away from Wild Nights.

"Yeah," he said, looking pensive; there was a definite frown on his face.

"What's up?" She sighed, propping hands on her hips.

"I just feel like we haven't been talking enough lately," he said. "Even last night." A faint flush colored his cheeks. "Which I very much enjoyed and...thank you for...humoring me."

"It wasn't like that," Melinda said. "You were angry, you...had a right to be, I guess. I wouldn't want to see you in a similar situation."

"But we didn't talk about it," Jim said. "Not really."

"What's there to talk about?" She asked, throwing her hands up. "I took my clothes off, you got jealous. That's okay, Jim. I'm not mad and now the whole thing is over and done with."

"It's not," Jim said.

She really didn't understand this. "What else is there to say?" She wondered, looking up at her tall husband. "Seriously, Jim. What else?"

Her voice was pleading, and she stepped closer, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know," he sighed, looked at her, and then pulled her into his arms, his lips hungry and warm; she melted into the embrace, kissing him back, drinking him in. God, she loved her husband, and how his embrace was still the most comforting and the most invigorating thing she could imagine. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," she said, a bit subdued, wanting more of him. "Um, do you have a shift today?"

"Night shift," Jim replied. "I'll be out doing errands most of the day; we're out of a lot of groceries."

"Sorry about that, I got busy," Melinda said.

He smiled, for the first time in a while, and Melinda felt like she could breathe again, like the knot in her stomach had finally eased. "Don't apologize," he laughed, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "I'll miss you," he said, and she nodded, getting into her car; he closed the door for her and stood there for a moment to watch her drive away. Oddly, that made her want to not even go, but she waved and put her foot on the gas, pulling away and leaving him there.

* * *

Lena did remember how to get to the apartment, and she jogged up the steps to the third floor with Rick behind her, secretly pleased that he could keep pace; he didn't seem like the type of guy who kept himself in shape; or, indeed, found that very important.

She shoved the key in the lock, praying that Rick was right, that the lease hadn't changed, that Penny hadn't just kept the key as a keepsake, but thank god, the door was opening and there was no one inside screaming at them to get out.

It was freezing, that was for certain. Lena walked to the thermostat and tried to turn it up, but nothing happened.

"The heat probably turned off when she didn't pay the bill," Rick suggested.

"Then we'll have to hurry," Lena said, feeling her teeth already chattering.

"This is all of her stuff?" Rick wondered, looking around at the place.

"Yeah," Lena said, looking around her. "And...this is Steph's too." She frowned, seeing items, cataloguing them. "Most of these are actually Steph's. I don't...I don't see much that's Penny's."

She walked into the bedroom, flinging open the closet. "Maybe...maybe Steph took over the lease," she said in puzzlement. "Like to have a place to store her stuff while she was in Europe."

"This is a pretty pricy storage unit," Rick scoffed.

"Yeah," Lena reflected, stepping back into the front room. "God, it's cold in here."

"Do you see anything? Any clues?" Rick wondered.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," Lena breathed. "But I do think that it has to be Steph. She must be keeping up payments on the apartment; I just wish I knew if she knew that Pen still had a key."

"Let's get out of here then," Rick suggested. "You're freezing to death; and I know a place with great soup around here."

"Okay," Lena said, standing in the shambles of her sister's life, trying one more time to make sense of what she could see.

And then she felt her heart twinge, ache, and she left the apartment with Rick, locked the door behind her and left it behind.

* * *

She was quiet.

Rick almost felt worried. It wasn't like she'd been a chatterbox before but she'd only spoken up to order vegetable soup ("No animal products, please") and french fries, and now Rick was eating clam chowder and she was idly dipping a fry in ketchup, and then just swirling it around, not eating it.

"It's not like this will take forever," he said finally, clearing his throat. "But neither will it take only a few days. We'll get there, Lena, I promise. When Melinda sees your sister again, we'll get closer. I don't know why, but it always takes ghosts a long time to fully get the whole story done and told. Maybe it's the confusion, I don't know. But we'll get there. I can't promise when but you will get closure, I promise."

Lena sighed, taking a sip of her sprite. "How did you know that that's what I was thinking?"

"Because you're impatient like me," Rick said simply. "Like everyone. Everyone's impatient, everyone wants answers. We'll get them, Lena."

"Why won't she appear?" Lena finally said, tears in her eyes. "I just want...I just want to talk to her again. Melinda was...yesterday at the club, she said such lovely things, things that she would only, could only know if Penny had told them to her. She knew our old secret handshake and the codeword we used in front of our parents when we were teens and getting into trouble. She knew everything and she said that Penny loved me and that…"

"It's okay," Rick said, uncomfortable, not confident in his ability to handle crying women; he usually messed this up, and messed it up bad.

"If she loves me, why isn't she helping?" Lena finally finished, and then didn't speak anymore for the rest of the meal. "And I don't even know where I'm staying now, I just spent all my paycheck to pay off Penny's blackmailer and I was going to keep working there, make enough for the rent."

"I'm sure that Jim and Melinda would put you up for however long you needed it," Rick hedged. "Or they have friends who would."

"I don't want to impose," Lena said stiffly. "I don't even know anymore. Could you just...drop me at my apartment? You can tell Melinda the address and she can find me there if she needs me."

"Lena," Rick said.

"Please," she said, voice flat, and he finally acquiesced, paying the check and standing up. "Come on then," he said, and led her from the restaurant.

* * *

Melinda got home at five, hoping to catch Jim before he left; she wasn't sure when the shift actually started and if she was being truthful, she was hoping to catch him before he had dinner.

Surely there was time for something.

She wasn't sure why she had such a high sex drive lately; this was ridiculous even for her, and usually when she got home she wanted a hug from Jim, but now she wanted everything and she wanted it quickly.

And there he was in the kitchen, still in jeans and a flannel shirt.

Thank god.

"Hey," she said, not bothering to take her coat off before she slid her arms around him, holding him tight, feeling his flat stomach, and every muscled plane.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Making dinner?" She asked, leaning her head on his back, feeling short and loving every minute; she'd taken off her heels when she walked in the door, casting off professional Melinda.

"Yeah," he said. "Just a grilled cheese. Hey, how did things go with Lena?"

"Oh," Melinda said. "God, I didn't even think of it. The afternoon was so busy and then Rick just never called."

She could feel Jim tense a little, as if regretting bringing it up. "I don't want to talk about that," she said simply. "I can worry about that after you leave. I don't know, I just don't feel a sense of urgency to get this one done with, not more so than usual, you know?"

"Yeah," Jim said.

"I feel like Penny is going to wait until the last possible second to tell anything more," Melinda mumbled into his back. "I've met ghosts like her before. They care so much for their families they don't want to tell the whole truth in case someone gets hurt."

Jim was turning the skillet off, putting the sandwich on a plate.

"You hungry?" She asked, and he paused.

"Wouldn't that be why I'm making a sandwich?" He questioned, and she held tighter.

"Would you mind eating it cold?"

The question hung in the air for a moment.

And then Jim was spinning around, his hands coming to rest on her waist; she was desperately pulling at his clothes, yanking at his shirt, wanting him, all of him, right fucking now.

Their lips were touching, barely brushing and she was impatient, and he finally took pity on her, yanking his shirt over his head and she felt like purring in satisfaction, walking him backwards towards the kitchen counter, flattening her hands on his chest, feeling every ripple of muscle as he strained towards her; as he forced himself to let her dictate this, the pace, and the rhythm.

She moved her hands up on his shoulders, caressing the skin there, letting him stare down at her as she just stared at him, memorizing him before moving back, taking her coat off, hitching her skirt up to shimmy out of her tights.

His eyes were dark, his hands were moving impatiently towards her, and she finally smiled, jumping up onto him; he saw her and caught her, holding her tight; her legs clamped around his waist and he was setting her on the counter; his lips were everywhere and she was wrestling with the fastening on his pants; god, she wanted him inside her right now and they knew from experience what a perfect height this counter was for, well, anything.

His hands were sliding up her skirt, caressing silky thighs, and she gasped as he got closer, as his belt was undone and she was unzipping his pants; he was pulsing towards her, groaning as she touched him, and she was ready for this.

And then the doorbell rang.

It took them a minute to come down from their high, register what was happening.

"Fuck," Melinda hissed, clinging to Jim, knowing what the right thing to do right now was and not wanting to do it at all. God knew she didn't get enough time alone with Jim.

Jim was slowly pulling away, grabbing for his shirt; Melinda keened at the loss of his warmth.

"Get dressed. Suppose it's Lena," he cautioned, and she bit her lip, wanting to say, who cares but had a sudden, terrible realization:

She had done this to Jim thousands of times before. Just abandoned him, no matter what they were doing, because a ghost or the family of a ghost had an emergency.

So, naturally, he was reacting the way that he'd think she wanted. He thought she'd want to go see who it was, take care of it, do what needed to be done.

He'd gone so quickly, and she felt her heart pang, remembering specific instances; the look on Jim's face, wondering if he felt as she did now.

She slid from the countertop in misery, tugging at her skirt and walking through the kitchen door, making sure it closed behind her, seeing who was there talking to Jim and feeling her heart sink more. Rick.

She wondered what Jim was thinking, that Rick had interrupted things yet again, but there was no anger on her husband's face, not quite even disappointment.

Just resignation.

"I'll go finish dinner," he said. "You guys do your stuff. My shift starts in an hour, and I need to get ready."

She watched as Jim walked back to the kitchen, looking broadshouldered and distant.

And it was all her fault.

"Hey, sorry for the bad timing, I didn't want to bother you at the shop," Rick said.

Bad timing. Funny, he'd never noticed that before.

"Um, yeah," Melinda said, gesturing for him to come in, leading him to one of the chairs; curling up on the couch herself with a blanket; a gift from Faith. "What's up?"

He ran through what had happened with Lena, how they'd gone to Lena's apartment, and then to Penny's; how quiet the younger woman had gotten after that.

"I guess I was just hoping that you'd seen Penny," Rick said. "And then possibly going to ask...could Lena stay with you if she gets evicted?"

She felt surprise that Rick cared this much, and then just wondered why he was the one asking her.

"I haven't seen Penny," Melinda said. "Which, admittedly, is odd. I haven't even...felt anything. I don't know why, but it was a busy afternoon and she just never showed."

"Isn't that something to worry about?" Rick urged.

"No," Melinda said. "Ghosts are...erratic and never make sense. Penny will come when she wants to, when she thinks it's time."

"And about Lena?" Rick said hopefully.

"I'll talk to her about it," Melinda said. "I'll go see her tomorrow maybe, I don't know."

"Okay," Rick said, and stood up. "Hey, Jim's seemed kind of quiet lately." His gaze shot to the closed kitchen door as they walked into the front hall. "Is he okay? Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine," Melinda said. "We're great."

"I'm sorry," Rick began. "If I interrupted something there, I don't...I don't always have a sense of good timing."

"Thanks," Melinda said softly, glad he'd said it, not sure how she felt that he'd sensed it; for the normally clueless Rick to notice something like that was out of the ordinary and so how out of the ordinary were she and Jim acting for him to even notice?

She closed the door behind him and walked back to the kitchen; JIm had already finished washing his dishes and was drying them on a handtowel.

"Hey," she said, wondering if ripping her dress off would have the desired effect on him; and yet, though it would certainly get his attention, it felt too manipulative for her to try it.

"I need to get ready for work," Jim said, pausing in the doorway.

She licked her lips hesitantly, wondering if she should voice it, if that was what Jim was waiting for.

And then he was gone, slipping through the door, and she could hear his footsteps on the stairs.

And it still wasn't too late, she reflected, seeing that Jim had neatly laid her tights and coat over a chair, picking them up and holding them over her arm. She could literally walk right up the stairs and let him know that she was most definitely open to picking up where they left off.

But it just didn't seem like they could, like it was even a possibility.

She bit her lip and hung her coat in the hall closet, standing there for a minute before walking up the stairs.

Jim was getting shaving in the bathroom and she put her tights in the laundry, sliding her dress over her head, unclipping her bra; it left red marks and she exhaled to take it off, reflecting on how much different, how much better it would have felt if Jim had been the one to take it off, if Jim was here now, hands covering her, mouth soothing the soreness away.

She pulled on a pair of sweatpants, hearing Jim walk into the bedroom; and good god, she was topless, didn't he fucking care?

She could feel his gaze on her and she finally just looked at him, baring herself to him, begging him to touch her.

She could see his jaw working, and saw his gaze jump to the clock.

"Five minutes," she whispered, giving in, moving forward, and then he was too, their lips again moving together, his hands covering her, they were falling back onto the bed and it took longer than five minutes, but it was 6:55 and he was running out the door; Melinda felt positively giddy; he'd get there in time, he just wouldn't be early.

And those moments with him had been worth it, and she hoped he thought so as well.


End file.
